


Office Space

by Tabithian



Series: Office Space [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5094815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim's been undercover at some company as generic office worker number three for a few weeks now, and he's starting to crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Office Space

**Author's Note:**

> I kept thinking about [this post](http://tabithian.tumblr.com/post/132070153994/thatsthat24-theinturnetexplorer-employee), so. *hands*

Tim's been undercover at some company as generic office worker number three for a few weeks now, and he's starting to crack.

“She polices the break room fridge, Jason!”

Jason _hmms_ , tastes the chili he's making and decides what the hell, why not add more chili flakes. It's late fall and a touch of heat will help with that little issue of Tim's compromised immune system due to a missing semi-vital organ. 

There's sort of a thing in the community, or maybe just Jason's part of it filled with Bats and other crazies that probably started off as a joke, the kind of black humor that tends to surface in their line of work. Because honestly, if you can live without an internal organ, just how badly did you need it, really? 

“I'm going crazy here, please tell me we're almost done.”

Jason's not even part of this weird little mission, it's all Bruce and Dick's show. Tim getting thrown to the wolves because he's the one voted least likely to snap under all the red tape he's been wading through the last few weeks. (Also, the way he looks in business casual, but none of them were stupid enough to actually say it.)

No, Jason's just the one Tim bitches to about office politics and this Mabel woman on the fourth floor who rules the building with an iron fist. (And copious amounts of floral print, but mostly the iron fist.)

Tim's sent Jason pictures of her he took with his phone, this sweet looking woman in her early forties with a sixties style flip hairdo and black horn-rimmed glasses. 

Jason tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder and wrinkles his nose when he gets a faceful of powder off the chili flakes he's adding in to go with the other ingredients guaranteed to sear taste buds and burn sinuses.

“Tim,” he says, pauses because he's fairly sure he can hear Tim grinding his teeth over the line. “You're going to have an aneurysm if you keep this up, you know.”

There's this. 

This _pause_.

Jason can practically hear Tim's fury and rage and all that shit building and doesn't even bother pretending he's not finding this hilarious.

“I mean,” Jason says, bravely forging forward through the wall of Tim's speechless anger. “You moved her stapler.”

Tim makes this garbled sound of rage and fury, and Jason's pretty sure he's going to have to watch his back for the next oh, _forever_. 

Worth it, though. So, so worth it.

“She labeled it for a reason,” Jason continues, and really, Tim's going to kill him for this, but. “You don't move a woman's stapler after she puts a label on it like that, Tim. It's just not done.”

There's a soft, distinct _click_ , like Tim has very carefully set the handset of his office phone down rather than slamming it back into the cradle, and Jason finally gives into the laughter that's been fighting to get out since he answered Tim's call.

********

In the aftermath – Jason doesn't ask because the look on Tim's face promises pain.

Dick is this ball of convulsive laughter and tears tracking down his face, and Bruce. He's _smiling_ , this thing that isn't rare at all as it's usually caused by one of them being a dumbass in some capacity or other. But in combination with everything else?

Yeah, not about to ask.

********

“You bring your camera?”

Tim makes a questioning noise, little grumble when Jason pokes his shoulder.

“Come on, Tim. Rise and shine. It's a glorious day and all that shit.”

Tim flat-out told Bruce he needed a vacation after his mission into the cesspool of corporate America, and Bruce being Bruce he gave them a nice little list of things he's been keeping an eye on that seemed a little suspect.

Which, honestly?

Smart, because between the two of them, Jason's pretty sure this would have turned into a working vacation at some point anyway.

“No.”

“Tim.”

It's the kind of growl a sleepy kitten would make, which given Tim right now? Not inaccurate.

“Hey, so,” Jason says. “I got you a present.”

Tim pulls his head out from under one of the stupidly fluffy pillows the hotel provided them with and looks at Jason suspiciously.

They've been in the country all of a few hours and Jason's being a dick, waking Tim up after he's gotten maybe an hour or two of sleep after the plane ride here, but, hey, it's part of his charm. (Also, maybe Tim should learn not to work on a long flight like that and get sleep while he can.)

Jason rolls his eyes and takes his hand from behind his back, smirk taking form as Tim stares.

“Is that?”

“You didn't tell me Mabel had security on the thing,” Jason says, moving closer as Tim reaches for the stapler resting on Jason's palm, little floral print bow wrapped around it. “You sure she's not one of us?”

Tim shoots Jason a narrow-eyed look of disgust. “If anything, she's a super villain.”

Considering what Tim's told him about her, Jason believes it.

Not like there were laser tripwires or anything, but holy shit. Mabel is incredibly resourceful when it comes to making little traps for her co-workers using office supplies.

“Hey, you know,” Jason says, all casual and nonchalant as Tim looks the stupid stapler over. “If you did bring your camera, I'm sure Mabel would love to know how much fun her stapler's having on vacation.”

Tim looks up at Jason, mouth curving in a sharp smile.


End file.
